Country Roads

So the other day, some other BRAC interns and I traveled a couple of hours outside the city to a village. First of all, these people are hilarious. I've never been in a group where I'm the sole American, but it's kind of refreshing. Our rag-tag bunch of ex-British colonists included two Canadians (oh stop- it's a real country), two Bangladeshis (including my friend from GW, Shabab), and three Australians. All are here for the next weeks or months to do something similar to what I'll be doing (which, at press time, is still unknown).

So we get to this village, and I can guarantee that it is exactly what you're picturing. There are kids running around chasing chickens, cows hanging out next to houses, no running water, and hardly any electricity. I went to the "toilet" and peed into a hole in the ground.  And this is less than two hours from a city of 15 million people.

Our first stop is a microfinance meeting. BRAC only gives micro loans to women. This is because, statistically, men are crap at actually doing anything productive with the money they're given. Women tend to teach their children what the money is for, they tend to get more return for the money, and they tend not to drink it away somewhere. These women can build up credit over time to receive loans of Tk.50,000 ($695) or more per year. They use the loan to buy land, livestock, start a small business, buy seeds, open a salon, start a Starbuck's, and anything else that can generate income. They pay back a portion of the loan each week, and use a system of peer pressure to make sure each person's part is paid. If someone's crops fail or is business is bad one week, others chip in to make sure she doesn't default.
After the finance meeting, we walked all the way across the village (approximately 4 steps) to a health meeting. There, a BRAC saleswoman was showing a gathering of women what types of medicines they could buy and what each would treat. Because many of these women are illiterate, there is simply a pictogram of what each disease is, and what the dosage of the medicine should be. I have to say, I could have gone a long time without seeing a cartoon twelve year old with explosive diarrhea.

Next we went to a BRAC school. When I say "school", think America circa 1840: one room, one teacher, a lot of reciting information. These children are all extremely poor, but they have such big dreams. Some want to be doctors, others teachers, biologists, police officers, and prime ministers. While these students learn in a decidedly modest environment, 99.54% of BRAC students pass the fifth grade nation-wide exam- a better average than the public schools. The second grade students all performed (ok yelled) the only English-language song they knew, "We Shall Overcome". It was enough to make anyone choke up.

Finally, we drove to a textile factory where both women and men work to produce clothing for BRAC's retail store- Aarong. The profits from this reasonably large chain in Dhaka are reinvested into BRAC programs, so we try to buy there when possible. The employees dye, cut, sew, embroider, screen print, paint, and stictch everything by hand. It's an incredible process to watch, and the end result is amazing.

BRAC school

microfinance meeting

health meeting

embroidering

screen printing